ERode

Enter: Into an Isekai World

Man, real good thing that the isekai deal isn't confirmed yet.

Enter: Into an Isekai World

Shit message, if that was the case. Why didn't those slimey bottomfeeders keep the messaging subtle when they went after the suite? Kept it private, personal. Not blown it up so much that it was impossible to find a relative that hadn't heard of his parents' misdeeds. Ohta simmered quietly, his gaze focused nowhere in particular. The consuming darkness and the stark, electronic light made it easy to zone out, even as he regarded the others in the same light. A girl? A woman? Something inbetween, someone also stuck with the sharks, if messages were what she made of this. A foppish man, well-kept with long hair. Performer, perhaps? Musician or idol. Had that sort of feel to him. And the last...

"Don't fuck with me!"

A gun. A real fucking gun. Right here. Outta nowhere. Pointed at them. Ohta froze, the terror and aggression on the man's face amplified by the shadows cast by the smartphone. His mind churned. His heart burned. Out here, in the middle of nowhere. Two strangers, one enemy. No light in sight other than his own. Close range. Fuck this guy. Turn off the light, tackle his legs, wrestle away the gun, and then bash his fucking skull in. It'll be easy. It'll be clean. Who here would report him to the cops? With four words, it became us versus him. And Ohta felt great. He felt energized. He felt as if he could do it. No hesitation. Take his hands and pull that fucking subhuman's face into two meaty pieces.

But a gun was a gun. And murder was murder. What were the optics? Could he risk it? Didn't have medical for bullet wounds. Worse off if this punk was one of the higher ups' relatives. Was this just the high from having somehow gotten proper rest? Was this just the straw of bullshit that burst his dam? Ohta shifted his gaze down, away from the gunman's face. He couldn't risk it. Couldn't even risk being pissed about it.

"No one's fucking with you, man," came his sycophant voice, traitorous and serpentine. "Lower your gun, please? We're not even sure why we're here."

But if the gunman did, if the chances of getting shot out of the blue decreased, would that tilt the scales in Ohta's decision-making? Make his initial response more reasonable? He didn't know. Not yet. So he kept his smartphone's light trained on the man, waiting for those eyes to adjust, to grow accustomed to light.

Accustomed to seeing, until it was turned off.

Cacophony Concord

Though much of what was exchanged between the Immortals left Karan perplexed, especially at the calculating way in which they reasoned themselves into wanting to help out Lugh (who the dark-skinned shrine maiden had originally thought was their otherworldly comrade-in-arms), there was a visible expression of relief on her face when the group consensus became to help out. She turned towards Ames, addressing the red-haired youth (who, judging by his looks and his stalwart behavior, must be the sub-leader of this party, only second to Lugh) with a smile and a truck load of information. Shirin had planned on giving all this information to whoever took the quest to begin with, so surely she wouldn't mind Karan doing it now?

"Um, well, first off, thank you all very much for accepting my request," she said, bowing deeply. "Though new to the shrine, Lugh Dysphoria has been a great contributor and patron of our services, and his singleminded devotion to the slaying of foul spirits has been inspirational to quite a few of our younger acolytes. As for your question though, um, sir, I've never encountered a lamia up in person myself, but I've heard that they're half-snake, half-humans, roughly the height of...say if that big man hugged that small woman around her knees and then fused into just a serpent's tail? Something like that." She nodded; the visual made sense in her mind, and one of the older exorcists had always talked about how lamias were depraved fusions of two humans. "Most of them are just natural monsters, very strong, very fast, and with the ability to release venom, but some of the scarier ones have these bewitching eyes that, hm, can control the weak-willed? And the scariest ones can transform as well, from full human to full snake, whichever they think works better." Definitely a scary thought. She shivered at it even now, wondering if somewhere in the crowd, a shapeshifted lamia was listening in on the conversation.

"And as for where these lamia are..." Karan pursed her lips together, wondering if such taboo information should truly be shared. She had Shirin's permission, but still... "We've received word from other adherents that this particular group of lamia reside within the Blasphemed Tunnels, an underground network in the Thunderstruck Grove where only the truly wicked reside. Wretched sinners, taboo-breakers, a whole array of horrific spirits and monsters, who think only to use their intelligence to further their malice. Few venture in and survive, and those who do are irrevocably altered by the unholy revelations seared into their consciousness, cursed forever with maledictions of the darkest powers."

But Lugh, without hesitation, had plunged into that horrific place. She could only hope that, if he made it out, he would be spared the psyche-shattering that so many others had experienced within.

"I can't pinpoint a location on a map for you to pursue, but surely Lugh will have left signs for you to follow?"
_{@Shovel@Searat@Psyker Landshark@OwO@Yankee}

---

“Certainly wouldn’t be good for the smithing economy if everyone toted around unbreakable objects,” Bortz replied with a chuckle. His eyebrows lifted slightly at Ari’s remark, before shaking his head. A meaty hand slapped against his pristine armor, the metal echoing like a drum against the force of the blow. “And I wish this were custom-made. Ya know the San-Li? West side of the continent? The folk there’ve got nice ties with Deneb, which is like, the Euro-fantasy land with knights and dragons, and they’ve got some pretty steady trade routes set up with them as a result.”

Another laugh came from the hearty man. “Cultural exchange, innit? Got this from one of the merchants. Wasn’t cheap, but custom-made be easily twice more expensive. Everything else was just farming and buying ‘round Nyu-Taro. That San-Li shopping trip was just a quest n all.”

Before either could continue the conversation however, a plume of flame surged down the road, skidding to a stop before it could collide with the carriage. Man Joji pulled hard on the reins as the mule bleated out what was probably an expletive, but Vator, wreathed still in the effects of the strange transportation power of his, didn’t care. “Bortz, Droko, uh Ari, we’ve got company!”

Cresting up the path was a plume of dust, and sharper ears would pick up the sound of stampeding hooves. Bandits? Horses?

“Remind me, Vator, why did you lead them to us?” Droko said, the tattoos on her body lighting up with arcane energy as she flexed her muscles.

“Well what was I supposed to do, solo them?” Vator sputtered in reply, his feet now adorn with flaming wheels. “Thought I’d, y’know, defer to your wisdom first.”

“What’s done’s done,” Bortz laughed. “And hey, any escort mission without a fight or three’s just a waste of time!”

Man Joji sighed, settling into his seat as the rambunctious adventurers prepared to earn their keep. “I’d like to believe that caution is the better virtue here, but as I’ve said before, I shall defer.”

Bursting up into view, forms still smoking of the fog of that cursed grove, were two large gyukis, black bulls with oversized heads, six thundering limbs, and great twisted horns specked with gore. Not much had changed since Ari’s last true combat encounter. Perhaps she had even lacked more than what she had before.

But each fight was a new one.

And now, it was time to tango.
_@GreenGoat

The Devil Hunter Agency

_{@TheWendil@Flood@SilverPaw@dioscuri}

The archer was occupied and the swordswoman was bound, with Envoy's substitute having retrieved the last of the unshattered black rocks. It was a situation that basically guaranteed their victory at this point, and Shika was ready to call it a night. End it off in a bang, really. But Rufus's portal didn't pop up again to retrieve them, and in all their genius, the corpse-flower hadn't actually gotten anyone's contact information. Did demons that smelled of garbage or spent all their time holed up in a bar even know how to use a phone? Hell if they knew...and the unwanted attention those rocks were drawing now caused another problem.

So Dandelion pulled some threads, as Envoy's substitute stuffed the rocks in her shirt, vastly improving her figure, other puppets surged out, launching themselves with wild abandon and paradoxical cries of terror and refusal towards the floating Mai. If that invisible force wasn't going to kill the Devil Slayer, then Shika would have to. And while the mob did their dirty work, Busty!Envoy continued to run, slipping into the forest surrounding the shrine.

With administrative work taken care of, there was only the matter of the only credible threat amongst the trio that dared intrude upon the banquet of...Kirara Rodriguez Matured XVIII Evening Star SS Plum.

Mesmerizing technique. Awe-inspiring brutality. A woman aflame, tangoing with roses turned blades. Sanguine liquids bubbled, then evaporated within the inferno cast by Maria, red fumes swirling cyclonically around her. What would have slain lesser hunters had hardly scratched the woman, mere superficial scratches endured. And though Hunahphu was singular, it was all-destroying; the razor petals of the vampiress's spell were burnt away till naught remained but the crimson mists. Mist that, alone, would not stop Maria!

Whirling around to face the woman that refused to just die, the vampire's beautiful countenance twisted into a snarl as they drew out their own hand. Crimson mist sucked into that pale palm, coalescing into a broadsword of deepest red, so gluttonous as to devour even the moonlight arcing over the peaked roof of the holy temple. Kirara swung the sword to meet Maria head-on, weapons clashing in a duel between two titans of supernatural and physical might!

For a moment, there was a stalemate.

And in the next, the chainsaw roared to life!

Hunahphu ripped through sword and flesh like butter all the same, the vampire only barely managing to twist their body out of the way as their dismembered arm and leg immolated to ash instantly. The sacred weapon struck the ground with meteoric force, aftershocks sending Kirara flying away. They skipped against the ground once, twice, and then crashed into the sacred tree of the shrine, their gorgeous updo undo in the flight. Through a mess of hair, the devil's face contorted with vengeful fury, fresh blood seeping out of the charred stumps of the right side of their body. "Brute bitch!" they spat, the atmosphere itself weighed down by the magical energy surging out. "Leave it to a godless savage to only be good at shaking their hips and hitting like an ape!"

Scarlet roots shot into the ground, then burst back out as rows upon rows of three-meter high spikes raced out to skewer Maria.

"罪人の処刑! [Execution of Sinners!]"

Dawn Beyond Tomorrow: A Magitech distant postapocalyptic action-adventure RP

Yeah, just been busy with stuff. Long weekend keeping me busy too, but I'll make things happen before Monday.

Enter: Into an Isekai World

So, Ink, do we wait for you to post, now that everyone's gone once, or do we just keep continuing?

Cacophony Concord

"It's...it..."

The woman furrowed her brow, trying to stitch together all her disparate thoughts together, before saying, "Lugh is one of the adherents of our faith as well, you see, of the Lady of Alabaster Scales. During the last day or two, we've received reports of dark tidings. Children and youths gone missing in neighboring villages, y'know. Our Head Priestess was just about to write up a quest for it, really, but then Lugh heard of it."

Karan shivered, even at the thought of the terrors that must have lurked behind the abductions.

"She had surmised that a den of lamias were behind this most recent problem, and when Lugh happened upon our conversation, he was possessed by a most righteous of light! He headed right off into the Thunderstruck Grove, sparing time only to give us your names, in case he didn't make it...and now it's been hours since..."

She shook her head, her gaze turning northwards, no doubt towards where the valiant, justice-hearted Lugh was even now entangled in the foul-machinations of the child-napping snake-folk.
_{@Shovel@Searat@Psyker Landshark@OwO@Yankee}

---

"Dang, that's hella rough," Bortz said, shaking his head. "How did that even happen? Like, I dunno how tough monsters are myself, cause my Nuclei's literally unbreakable due to, y'know being a Nuclei, but I didn't think that goblins could mess shit up that bad."
_@GreenGoat

Enter: Into an Isekai World

Pew pew, fastest post in the west.

And now I sleep.

Enter: Into an Isekai World

When he opened his eyes, he saw only stars.

For a moment, Ohta was mesmerized at the myriad of heavenly gems spread overhead. A tapestry possible only in a world where night meant an end to work. He drank deeply from the sight, and then blinked. And like that, the beauty was lost to him.

Sitting up immediately, the brunette rummaged through his pockets and pulled out his phone. 11:43 PM? Hadn’t he just left work five minutes ago? He rubbed his eyes a couple of times, tearing away the last bits of sleep out, then looked again. Still 11:43…no, 44 now. What happened? His body certainly felt magnitudes lighter than it used to; had he passed out and somehow regained all his strength from just a minutes long power nap? It’d be wonderful if it did, but something was still off about it…

Flashlight mode tapped on, a bright, fluorescent light surging out from his phone. Three others, all in differing states of awakening. A torii gate, standing starkly against the night sky. And a whole forest to be stuck in. Tomorrow was another early shift. He needed to find out where he was, and how to get to the nearest station so he could head to his shitty one-room home and pass out in his shitty sleeping bag. Ohta’s brow furrowed, before he pressed his thumb against the creases to smooth them out. He drew in a breath, tapped his passcode in, waited for his smartphone to pick up any signal at all, and then swore in his mind silently once more.

Garbage IPhone, primed to self-destruct with every mandatory iOS update. Should've grabbed a Nokia.

But the voice that slipped out between his pale lips didn’t hint as to any of this.

“Uhm, excuse me, but does anyone else have a signal?”

The Epic of Beginnings - Fragments of a weathered scroll

^{@Pyromania99@Rune_Alchemist}

For a moment, as Octavia made that dumb animal look, Isidore wondered if he was truly losing his mind. Talking to animals and giving them complex instructions like this may seriously be a sign as to just how much his sense of reality had been disturbed over the past few days. But the demon dog took it in stride, and soon after, Ocavia was off, scampering towards the western peaks. He turned briefly to Augusta and Leuca, their bodies still entwinned with each other, and then said flatly, “It’ll be a hike. Let her walk on her own.”

It turned out he was right on both counts. The sun dipped dangerously close to the horizon, and Octavia had indeed lead them to the ones they were searching for. The situation though, was unfortunate. There was logic, of course, in the occurrences before him. Sorcha had been pursued by Apostles, who she evidently had a hand in killing. Railey had been out scouting for the Stieneter, meaning he was likely in the area when one or more of those killings happened. It was a miracle, really, that neither of them had continued to fight beyond that first clash Isidore heard.

And as for identity, Leuca confirmed Sorcha, and Railey’s armor confirmed his own standing.

His eyes examined them briefly, lingering on the exposed upper thighs of Sorcha’s own outfit. Strange girl, to be sporting such wear in these parts, but it was certainly eye-catching. Undoubtedly, the great ugliness present in the world was counteracted by equal beauty. What a boon it must be, to be a man. What pressure too, to ever be considered a fitting match for these women.

Isidore glanced over at Augusta, silencing the question that was about to seep out of his open mouth. He settled for pulling her hood over her head instead, before giving her a pat on the shoulder. “Hoods up, heads down,” the man murmured as he stood up. He wouldn’t die, so he would approach first.

And a ‘ladies first’ mentality didn’t make sense when walking into a battlefield anyhow.

With a nonchalance that did not betray the primal apprehension building in his spine, Isidore crested the hill, and allowed his body to be fully illuminated by the setting sun. He looked down at the two below, his gaze sweeping from Sorcha to Railey, before he called out, “Railey! Morgan requests your return immediately.”

All convenient truths. Sorcha would, if Leuca wasn’t lying, be on their side so long as the Sirithen child was safe, so all he had to do was rid her of Railey. By words, because even without blessed eyes, Isidore could tell that the best he could hope for was an exchange of lives if it came to a fight.

“It’s a matter of urgency, if he’s even asking strangers to relay such a message.”

No sign of the massive centipede Railey had been pursuing. Who had ran away first, man or monster?